


Distant Relations

by Cauliflower_steaks



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Body Image, Canon Levels of Incest, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:41:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27335851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cauliflower_steaks/pseuds/Cauliflower_steaks
Summary: Dimitri signs up to Ancestry.com in the hopes of making a family tree, and ends up scoring two dates on opposite ends of the continent.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Edelgard von Hresvelg/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28
Collections: FE3H Polyship Week





	Distant Relations

**Author's Note:**

> ***By "canon levels of incest", I only mean extremely distantly related, or step-siblings-who-never-knew-they-were-step-siblings related. Nothing sexy.***

It was seven pm, and it was already dark. Winter was the toughest time of the year. It was the sunlight that seemed to slip away all too fast, the struggle to wake himself up in pitch darkness. Conversely, it was also the seasonal depression, and Dimitri knew that he needed to keep himself occupied to ward off unwanted thoughts. And so he sat at his kitchen table with a sea of papers surrounding him.

There was something he’d always wanted to do but until now had not been able to. He wanted to make a family tree. His parent's death certificates loomed like a shadow over him. It had been years since they passed, but when his uncle first gave them to him, he glanced at them only once before shutting them in a cabinet with the intention of never opening it again. 

Almost ten years later, with one stint in rehab and three years of group therapy under his belt, he ready to rethink that decision.

His hands were shaky as he reached for the first paper on the stack. He moved his cup of coffee to the far end of the table, terrified of spilling it and soiling the certificates. He took a deep breath and sat down to work.

First, his father’s details. Those were easy. He didn’t even need to look at the death certificate; he knew them by heart. He winced a little as he moved the ‘living’ toggle to ‘deceased’, which prompted details about his death date and place. He went down his father’s family tree as far as he could, though his uncle and his grandfather were the extents of his knowledge. He’d have to dig out his birth mother’s details another day.

Then onto his step-mother’s, who he knew less about. He glanced down at the certificate.

 _Anselma von Arundel._ That was her real name. He knew she was Adrestrian, but only found out she had adopted a new name upon taking up residence in Faerghus when he obtained the birth certificates. At the time, it had been too much to process. And it _was_ unusual. It wasn’t as though Faerghans were entirely incapable of pronouncing a name like that, even though they might struggle with it a little at first. 

Could there have been another reason? She was always so reticent about her personal affairs. In many ways, she seemed to exist divorced from anyone else but him, his father, and Cornelia. He almost hesitated. Was he at risk of unearthing something that would only stand to make him miserable again?

He sat with his eyes closed for a moment, trying to get in touch with that feeling in his gut. He thought through both situations, one where he filled out her details, and one where he simply closed the laptop and walked away. When he thought of the latter, he felt like something was dropping in his stomach. But when he thought of the former, he felt...at ease.

He wanted to honour her memory, to learn who she was outside of their little family unit. And so, he filled out her details. The website informed him that if there were any other users with records about his family tree, he would be notified.

After waiting a few moments, the leaf icon at the top had a ‘2’ notification beside it. He clicked on it to review the leads that the website had given him. 

There were a few. Some things on his father’s side, and a recommended member profile for him to check out on his step-mother’s side. Since he was a little more curious about that side of his family, he decided to check it out.

It is hard to overstate how much the profile that it led him to shocked him. _Edelgard von Hresvelg._ The girl he’d been scanning Facebook for ever since he made an account. The girl who’s name he'd Googled at least once a month, but who never turned up even a sliver of information. 

The apparent biological daughter of his stepmother. 

There was no photo attached to the profile, but the age and date of birth listed checked out. June 22nd. He never forgot. He frantically clicked the ‘message this user’ button, but it told him he needed to take out a fourteen-day trial of the paid version to access this feature. He ran to grab his wallet and entered his credit card information with blinding precision, and soon the chatbox on her page was no longer greyed out.

Now was the hard part. Edelgard- El - was his stepsister? Dimitri felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. If this was true, then there surely must be a goddess. He had long entertained awful, embarrassing daydreams of unearthing a forgotten sibling and reconnecting with them. 

Just like he still entertained embarrassing daydreams of encountering Edelgard on the street, in a coffee shop or a museum, and having her run into his arms for a tearful reunion. He often imagined how she must look these days. Probably even prettier than he remembered.

Well, it might feel a bit strange to reconcile those feelings if she really was his step-sister, but he would deal with that later. For now, he sat with his hands hovering over the keyboard, ready to type something but unsure of what to say.

El?  
  
It’s me, Dimitri. You showed up under my step mother’s profile. As her daughter. I don’t know if this is all a mistake, or some kind of insane coincidence, but… please respond. I would love nothing more than to talk to you again.   
  


⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓༓☾∘⋅•

A week passed with no response from Edelgard. Dimitri was still plugging away at his family tree though, and he had the website open in a tab at all times. Just in case.

It was a Friday night, and everyone was busy but him. He was lonely, and bored, and feeling the kind of itch that he needed distraction from. He tabbed out of a Youtube playlist about medieval farming tools and back onto his family tree. He’d managed to make some pretty good progress on his father’s side, working all the way back to his sixth great grandfather. 

He noticed that he had a new connection in his notifications. It led to another profile with no picture attached, under the name Claude/Khalid von Riegan. They appeared to have a shared ancestor in his sixth great grandfather. He wasn’t exactly sure what that made Claude to him, but it was something to keep himself occupied. He silently lamented the fact that no one ever thought to add a photo of themselves on this website, but fired off a quick and cordial message anyway. 

He tapped his fingers on the table. No response. He really needed to learn that people weren't generally waiting around to answer messages on Ancestry.com, but he was bored, and he knew he needed to avoid that.

So, he booted up Facebook and did something very stupid. He typed in his latest matches’ name into the search bar. It was obvious from the secondary name written in Almyran that the first result was the man he was looking for. 

Dimitri enlarged his profile picture. Even in a casual selfie with his friend he was striking, one eye closed in a casual wink, and the shade of a smirk on his lips suggested that he was well aware of the fact. 

The presence of a mutual friend between the two drew his attention away from his newly discovered relative’s face. It was Raphael, who he had met during a charity marathon last year. They became quick friends, and Dimitri had hoped to have a chance to visit him in Leicester someday. 

He quickly scanned Claude’s profile and saw that he was a postgraduate student at LCU, the biggest and most prestigious university in the Alliance. Raphael’s virtual presence was enough for Dimitri to push past his apprehensions and send Claude a friend request. 

He tabbed back out to his Youtube video, but after three minutes his phone buzzed. He looked down. Claude had accepted his friend request. He didn’t hesitate to hop right back on Facebook and send him a message.

Good evening! I was browsing Ancestry.com and happened upon your profile. Can you believe we share a relative? It’s Leopold Blaiddyd, our 6th great grandfather. I see we even have a mutual friend in Raphael - it really is a small world, isn’t it? Haha :)  
  


Claude responded almost instantly.

lol hey. you must be bored  
  


This gave Dimitri pause. He wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t know how to respond to that. Thankfully he didn’t need to, because those three pulsating dots soon appeared on Claude’s end.

are you gay?  
  


Um. Wow. Dimitri didn’t know what to say, nor did he recall at that moment that his profile did in fact state that he was _interested in men and women._

Ha. Just asking. You don’t get cute messages like that from straight guys every day.   
  


Dimitri blinked.

Yes, I’m bi. I didn’t realize it was so obvious, haha  
  


well if you're ever in Leicester we could hook up.   
  


Dimitri put an elbow on the table and pressed his face into the heel of his hand. This was not what he was expecting when he sent this message. He scrolled back up to Claude’s profile picture. He was… gorgeous. Probably way out of Dimitri’s league. His lovely green eyes, the low cut of his t-shirt, his slightly unruly brown hair. On looks alone, this was the kind of guy that he would happily take a trip to Derdriu for. 

And so, Dimitri asked a question that would probably only ever occur to him.

well if you're ever in Leicester we could hook up.  
  
would that be incestuous?

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓༓☾∘⋅•

A knock. Claude closed one eye and squinted through the peephole on the front door. This was a motion he was well accustomed to - even when he knew it was just a pizza delivery or the postman with another one of Hilda’s seemingly endless stream of online purchases. He couldn’t physically bring himself to open the door without giving whoever was at the other end a thorough examination first.

This time, at least, he wasn’t being overly paranoid. This guy had written to him under the pretence of them sharing a _great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather_ with. And Claude had, inexplicably, immediately invited him over the border to have sex. 

In his defence, Claude had run countless searches of his name on a number of shady databases since then. He found two things - that he was the sole survivor of a horrific car crash in Duscur fifteen years ago, and that he had been charged with criminal battery a couple of years ago. Of course, that set off alarm bells at first, but when he researched it further he found it was nothing more than a bar fight that occurred when someone insulted a friend of his. He could overlook that.

Still, he had to be absolutely certain that this was Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. He gave him one final lookover. Blond hair swept back into a half ponytail, a large gym bag slung over his shoulder and a medical eyepatch covering his left eye. That was him, alright - the Ancestry.com guy. No mistaking it. 

Claude unlatched the lock and opened the door.

‘Hey,’ he said, beating him to the punch in his normal airy tone. Dimitri jolted to attention at the sight of him, straightened himself out and threw his shoulders back as if Claude were his manager who had just caught him slacking.

Claude found his Facebook profile fairly inconspicuous, save for the fact that his one selfie and the few posts he shared of himself lifting weights from his gym’s Facebook made it obvious that he was absurdly hot - that was why he’d almost immediately asked him to come over, after all. He was the same age as Claude, and though he didn’t have a job or school listed, he did have his location visible right down to the street he lived on.

His feed was mostly him sharing promotional posts from one particular local restaurant, with a couple of petitions and the odd inspirational quote thrown in there too. And when he asked Claude whether them hooking up would be incestuous, Claude almost swallowed himself laughing. 

"Oh, hello," Dimitri said, and he held out his hand for Claude to shake. That was quaint. Claude shook his hand, flashed him a smile and let him inside. He had strong, masculine features, but they seemed to soften into something a bit prettier in the warm indoor lighting. It made his hair glow more golden. 

Claude watched him in silence as he fussed over where to set his shoes down. He was a curious one, that much was for sure. He struck up conversation with a stranger over a shared ancestor, travelled all the way from Fhirdiad to Derdriu for a one night stand with said stranger, but once inside his house acted like a fish out of water.

“Do you want a drink?” Claude asked.

In the kitchen, Dimitri opted for a coke with no rum. Claude wasn’t much for alcohol either - the rum was Hilda’s - but he briefly wondered if it might be worth it to help take the edge off.

Dimitri, at least, didn’t make him feel on edge the way other people tended to. He had a gentle energy and Claude liked his sense of old-world politeness. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who would try to wrangle secrets out of him once he was inebriated. In the end, Claude still didn’t take any rum.

He set out the glasses on the table and took a steady but long sip. Dimitri did the same, and he made that “aah” noise after he swallowed it. “This is lovely,” he said, and Claude didn’t know how to respond because he didn’t make the Coke, he bought it, and it tastes the same everywhere in the world. 

It didn’t matter anyway because soon Dimitri produced an A4 folder from his gym bag with _Fhirdiad Job Fair_ printed on the front in bold print. From it, he pulled out a bundle of dogeared papers. They were monochrome printouts of web pages by the look of it if the dark splodgy ink where blue or green interface should be were anything to go by. 

Dimitri licked his thumb and index finger and began to separate out some pages to spread them on the table. Claude noticed that he kept his notes in the margins, and not sprawled anywhere that the page would have them. He was much more organized than Claude was. 

After a few moments of silent concentration, Dimitri looked up at him. “This is what I’ve found about Leopold.”

Claude skimmed over the information. It was mostly stuff he printed off of Ancestry.com, with some additional notes in the sides. It wasn’t bad, but Claude’s own research on his family tree was a lot more extensive.

“Wait there a minute,” Claude said, and he made his way into his bedroom.

Claude didn’t have a family tree. He had an overstuffed, underorganized, expandable family file folder. There was an unmarked divider between the Leicester side and the Almyran side, but that was it. Sandwiched between the pieces of laminated plastic was an unruly, international family reunion. If their apartment went on fire and he had to grab one thing, this would probably be the thing.

Some of his notes were handwritten, a frenzied script from when he interviewed aunts and uncles across the world about their heritage. The others were photocopies from publicly accessible records, some of them in Almyran. It was the cumulation of a body of work he’d started eight years ago when he was seventeen. He was proud of it, and secretly, very happy to have someone to share it with.

He decided to locate the bits about their shared ancestor in his room instead of lugging his shamefully disorganized folder out in front of his new hookup. He shoved it back in the wardrobe to mitigate the chances of Dimitri getting distracted by it during sex, something he felt was fairly probable. 

“Here, this’ll be useful for you.” He set the sheets down on the table in front of Dimitri. The look of genuine awe that followed made Claude’s heart swell.

“Claude, this is incredible.”

“Hey, it’s nothing that special. You can find most of this stuff in libraries and heritage centres. It just takes a while.”

“I see…”

He had a feeling Dimitri hardly heard what he’d just said. He was genuinely transfixed, and it was really, truly adorable.

“You didn’t mention any of this in our conversation…” he said, after a while.

“Sorry. I’m not really much for Facebook. I kind of only have a profile so I keep in contact with my aunties.”

“Oh, I thought everyone used it.”

Claude pressed his lips together. There was something about this guy that made him extremely reluctant to be snarky. 

“May I take some photos of these?” Dimitri asked.

“I have a photocopier. Here, I’ll make some copies for you.”

It was Lorenz’s photocopier, actually. But that didn’t matter because Lorenz wasn’t at home. He made two of each page, just in case Dimitri misplaced one anywhere along the way. Then Claude talked him through all the resources he had used to get this information so that Dimitri could research further by himself.

Claude glanced at the clock. It was almost six pm. He should probably start thinking about getting some dinner. And then getting laid.

“By the way, you can help yourself to anything, shower included. No need to ask,” he said, hoping to steer the conversation away from the tangent about open access learning resources that they had started down.

“Ah, don’t worry about it, Claude. I’ll be taking the last train home.”

This gave Claude pause. Why would he travel all the way here just to leave on the same day? “…When is the last train?”

“Eleven.”

“Something important tomorrow morning?”

“Oh, nothing in particular.”

Claude said nothing more but he pressed his lips together in rumination. He had plans for Dimitri at eleven, most of which involved pinning him down on his bed and giving him a hickey on that tantalizing patch of skin that was currently visible between his t-shirt and his denim jacket. 

Well, he wasn’t going to let that get in the way. They’d just have to go hungry.

“That’s a shame. Guess we should get started early, then.”

Claude moved from the kitchen table into his bedroom, giving Dimitri a look over his shoulder as he went through the door. He sat perched on the edge of the bed with his legs crossed. Dimitri followed him inside a few seconds later. They had no time to waste - Claude patted the space next to him and scooched over an inch, just to spell it out clearly for him.

He brought his arms around Dimitri’s neck and kissed him. The warmth of his lips and the closeness of their bodies on the bed was already making him feel lightheaded and hot. It had been way too long since he’d done this. His dissertation deadline was fast approaching, and the most he’d touched another person in the last two months was when he helped Hilda get into a dress that was too tight around the chest.

The kiss was so perfectly slow, with Dimitri’s hands clasping either side of his lower back, massaging circles there with his thumbs. He knew they had time constraints, but he didn’t want to speed this up. Dimitri seemed like the intense type, and It wasn’t often that Claude got to do this. He harboured a general distrust of people. He preferred hookups with people like Dimitri, people who were just passing through whatever city Claude was in at that moment. People he could fuck, and then promptly forget about.

Dimitri didn’t really seem like one of those people. Those kinds of people didn’t kiss him like that. 

He put that thought out of his mind and broke the kiss, deciding that this pace, as wonderful as it was, was clearly too dangerous. He flopped down onto the pillow, and Dimitri soon joined him by his side. 

“What are your preferences?” Claude asked. Dimitri had already settled a hand on his hip. 

“I’m… flexible,” he said. 

“Oh yeah? That sounds fun,” Claude said with a raised eyebrow. 

Dimitri laughed. It was a genuine one, from the belly. The sound made the corners of Claude’s mouth twitch up involuntarily. 

“You’re so funny, Claude. But I’m afraid I don’t mean physically.”

“Well, I’m pretty flexible, too. Should we just get naked and see what comes of it?”

Dimitri answered him with a kiss, which quickly turned passionate. He touched Claude with all the passion of a lovestruck boyfriend who he’d been away from for too long, and Claude couldn’t help but answer him in kind. It wasn’t long until the eleven o’clock train was nothing more than a distant memory.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓༓☾∘⋅•

An email notification from Ancestry.com. That was odd. Edelgard made the profile about two years ago, back when she was an undergraduate student and still had some grasp on the concept of free time. At the time she made a bit of progress but ultimately did not get as far as she would have liked. She could have sworn she cancelled her subscription, but apparently not. 

She had intended to return to it sometime, though, so maybe it wasn’t entirely a bad thing. The things she planned to do once she finished her Masters degree were starting to pile up, though. Maybe she could spare five minutes to look at whatever this was.

She opened the email and followed it to the log-in page, where she found she had forgotten her password. One reset later and she was in. She had received a message. Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Fhirdiad.

El?  
  
It’s me, Dimitri. You showed up under my step mother’s profile. As her daughter. I don’t know if this is all a mistake, or some kind of insane coincidence, but… please respond. I would love nothing more than to talk to you again.   
  


She set her phone down on the coffee table. No one had called her El in years. Who was this person? She checked his profile, but most of it was locked to friends only. On the sidebar, the only options were to find out if this person is related to you via a DNA test or to block them. Succinct. 

Should she even reply? Normally she wouldn’t humour a message from a stranger, but ignoring it threatened to make her even more anxious. It could be her uncle attempting to get in contact with her again. If that was the case, she needed to sniff it out immediately.

El?  
  
It’s me, Dimitri. You showed up under my step mother’s profile. As her daughter. I don’t know if this is all a mistake, or some kind of insane coincidence, but… please respond. I would love nothing more than to talk to you again.   
  
Who is this? I don’t know you.  
  


She hovered her mouse over the block button. Before she could click it, she had another message.

Are you certain? We used to be friends when you lived in Fhirdiad.  
  


Her stomach lurched. She really did not have time to be dealing with this. There were essays due, an undergraduate tutorial group that she was in charge of supervising. Not to mention that Hubert had texted her twice in the time since she’d seen the message. 

Before she had a chance to avert her eyes, he sent a picture message.

Well, she wasn’t talking to her uncle, unless he was holding Dimitri at gunpoint. And suddenly that name had a meaning, had a face connected to it. The boy from Faerghus, whose name she’d long forgotten but whose shy smile and blue eyes she still remembered. The very last friend she’d made before being forced out of her childhood too early.

This was unmistakably a photo of him. A sparkly party hat was sitting on his head, attached under his chin by a string of elastic. On the table in front of him was an obviously store-bought birthday cake. Two candles in the shape of the number ten burned in the middle of it. 

She kept her eyes centred on him, trying not to let her gaze float any further left. It was futile. Beside him, on the other side of the cake, was herself. Her hair was still mousey brown and styled in two neat pigtails. She was also wearing a party hat. She looked happy. 

Edelgard didn’t notice she was crying until she felt the need to sniffle. 

She reached for her phone, set a timer for exactly one minute, and sobbed, the heels of her palms pressed against her eyes. 

When her alarm sounded, she stopped. She walked to the kitchen to splash her face with cold water. There were a few dishes drying on a rack by the sink. Her entire apartment was pristine, and she often felt that it was too large for just herself. It was a far cry from Dorothea’s cramped room that she rented in a house with five strangers or the dorm with one bathroom that Petra had to share with three others in her international student accommodation. Edelgard needed her privacy, but sometimes when she came home from visiting her friends she felt that her living circumstances were rather lonely.

She dried her hands on a linen tea towel. This was about as much procrastination as she would allow herself. She would reply to his message, then go for her evening jog and try to process what exactly Dimitri resurfacing in her life meant for her. 

Oh, Dimitri. I’m sorry. My memory can be spotty, but I remember you now. It’s wonderful to hear from you. How have you been?

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓༓☾∘⋅•

She hadn’t expected to spend the next Friday evening at central station, but that was what she was doing. The platforms were awash with people, eager to get home but not as pushy as they might be any other day of the week, relaxed in the knowledge that they had two stress-free days ahead of them.

Edelgard wished she could say the same. Dimitri had set this reunion up with a level of haste that should have sent alarm bells ringing in her ears, but for some reason, it didn’t. He wrote to her with an earnestness that made her feel nostalgic for something she couldn’t quite remember but dearly wished to. 

This was a reckless idea, which was not something Edelgard was known for. But she knew it was impossible for anyone else to know about her history in Fhirdiad other than Dimitri himself. Besides, they were meeting in a very public place. She was smart. She would be fine. She had Hubert on speed dial, and he lived five minutes away. He didn’t know about this escapade, though. There was no need to make a fuss over it.

She glanced at the station’s timetable, not for the first time. He was due any moment now. Soon she heard the deafening screech of the train slowing down as it rounded the corner and pulled into the station. She winced at the unpleasant noise, but that was the last time she would give expression to any discomfort she felt. She straightened her back and flicked her hair over her shoulder, watching the windows pass her by, filled with indiscriminate shadows. She didn’t even know what she was looking for. 

The train pulled up, and though she didn’t know what he looked like, she knew from the instant she saw him that it was him. He was nigh on unrecognizable, tall and broad and wearing a medical eyepatch over one eye. He had no suitcase with him, just a battered-looking gym bag slung over his shoulder. He walked with a slightly uneven gait and he had a friendly demeanour, even when he wasn’t smiling. He looked like the kind of person Edelgard might approach for directions in the event that Google Maps was failing her. 

He must have recognized her too because his eyes fell on her shortly after he stepped onto the platform. She gave him a smile, considered in its stiffness, which he returned with an enthusiastic wave. 

He weaved his way through the crowd, careful not to bump into anyone but still singular on his path towards her. Edelgard resisted the temptation to fiddle with something.

"Oh, El!” he said, and before she knew what was happening she was pulled in for a hug. Her head was tucked under his chin, and the suddenness and intimacy of it all was unbearable. She didn’t like hugs. Her body went stiff all over, and she felt very hot. 

“Don’t--” she said, though it was too late. He was already holding her so tight that her voice was muffled against his shoulder. 

He must have heard her anyway because he sprung back and immediately released her. “Oh, I’m - I’m so sorry.” 

Edelgard simply ran a hand through her hair to straighten it out and pulled her jacket tighter around her. It wasn’t enough to phase her. “Not to worry.” 

She held her hand out for a handshake instead, hoping to smooth out the lingering awkwardness. She knew she was overly formal, Dorothea had told her as much countless times by now, but she hardly knew a different way of approaching things.

Dimitri shook her hand and they made their way out of the station. She stopped on a whim to take advantage of the short queue at her usual beverage place to get a new tea that she’d been wanting to try, an Earl Grey Rose Latte. It was somehow bright pink in colour and tasted neither like Earl Grey or roses. She asked Dimitri if he wanted anything, and he chose a plain croissant. It was one of the only ones left on display, and it looked stale, but he ate it without complaint.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓༓☾∘⋅•

They spent the evening at a restaurant, then reunited on Saturday morning for breakfast. She observed him as he talked to the waitress. He was just as kind as she had remembered him being. He approached everyone he came by with an almost encumbering warmth, but he addressed Edelgard with a particular fondness and familiarity that made her want to seek it out. 

They were in a strange situation, caught somewhere between a first date and a high school reunion. She hardly knew how to broach it. 

The waitress set their meals on the table. An omelette for Dimitri, pain au chocolat for Edelgard, and cappuccinos for both. 

“Look at this,” Dimitri said, and he produced a little photo book with a photograph of a basket of puppies on the front from his gym bag. Edelgard leaned in tentatively, careful not to hit anything on the table with her elbow and conscious of how close she was to him now. “More photos from when you and I were kids. Dad took this one,” he said, and he smiled at her as if that was supposed to mean something. 

The lack of possessive pronoun in front of the word ‘Dad’ made her feel awfully strange. There it was again, that uncomfortable insistence that they were honest-to-goddess related that had come up more times than she was happy about. Dimitri was looking at her for a response, which she avoided by pointedly not looking at the photo, choosing to stare at her cup of coffee instead.

She doesn’t _remember Dimitri’s_ dad very well, only that he kind of looked like Dimitri does now, and he used to let them play in their house, and sometimes he would make them sandwiches in the shape of dinosaurs. 

After a suitable amount of silence had passed, she turned her attention to the photo. It was weathered and flash had been used, which made both of their eyes glow red. The two of them were holding hands in front of a large teddy bear, and Edelgard was wearing a cheap dress-up tutu over her velour leggings, of which the knees were visibly faded. Dimitri was wearing what must have been one of his father’s suit jackets, which was of course comically oversized on him. The sight made her chest feel tight.

Satisfied that Edelgard had taken in the picture’s full glory, he flipped the photo around. _Edelgard and Dimitri’s wedding, 7/6/1998_ was pencilled on the back. Edelgard bit her lip and felt her cheeks flush a little. Dimitri, for his part, did not seem embarrassed at all, which was strange given how she’d witnessed him get flustered over the most minute of things on a number of occasions yesterday. “Look at you. Cute as a button,” he said.

She pressed her lips together. She picked up the photo and examined Dimitri’s father’s handwriting. She ran her thumb lightly over it and marvelled at how the pencil still hadn’t faded. 

“I wonder if that marriage is still legally binding,” she said, her eyes narrowed in what she hoped was a coy look at him.

Dimitri laughed, and it was the most genuine laugh she’d heard from anyone in a long time. It rang out in harmony with the clatter of spoons against porcelain cups, porcelain cups against saucers with little illustrations of coffee beans on their rims. “I should certainly hope not!”

Edelgard sat motionless with her hands curled around her mug. That felt more like a rejection than it really should, and the problem was presented to her as clear as daylight. Dimitri truly and genuinely thought of her as his sister, despite not being related. Despite not having grown up together. Despite the fact that they were each other’s first kiss. 

She didn’t know whether his memory is worse than her own, or if he was just selectively forgetful. She hoped it was the former, but the evidence was quickly mounting in favour of the latter.

Of course, their childhood romance had been just that - a childhood romance. It was nonsense, and she knew it held no weight in their current day. But they were some of the only happy memories she had of that time, and she regarded them fondly despite having forgotten everything about the boy but his face. Sometimes, when she would indulge herself in a daydream, she would think about him. How he looked now, who he grew up to be, and what might happen if they were to somehow meet again. 

_Nowhere_ in those daydreams did he appear as her younger brother. She already had one of those, and one was quite enough.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓༓☾∘⋅•

They spent the rest of the day wandering the city, making a few stops at museums and historical sites. Dimitri approached everything with earnest enthusiasm, and when she slipped into her favourite clothes shop after something in the window caught her eye he patiently waited for her and offered his opinion only when prompted. 

He didn’t think it was strange that she ate dessert for both breakfast and lunch. He was polite and kind to everyone they came across, and they even found a shared interest in non-fiction books and spent an hour locked in an enthusiastic discussion about how the last economic crisis could have been prevented in the back of her favourite book shop.

That is to say, Edelgard liked Dimitri quite a lot. Enough that she had decided to get take away for dinner instead of eating out and invite him back to her apartment. Edelgard was doling out the food onto plates, and Dimitri was pouring their drinks. It had been so long since she’d spent a cosy night in like this with someone. 

When she looked up from what she was doing, she found Dimitri gazing at her with a fondness that startled her. It must have shown on her face because he laughed. Edelgard felt a drip of sauce from her fork fall onto her outstretched hand below it.

“It’s just… so wonderful that we found each other again. To think I had a sister out here all along… and that it was you,” he said.

“I am not your sister,” she said. She realized her tone was snappier than she’d intended when Dimitri’s eye widened in a truly pitiful look of shock. She sighed. How does one best explain this? That her dead mother marrying his dead father without Edelgard ever being made aware didn’t make them siblings? 

“I won’t be able to see you as my brother. We didn’t grow up together, nor are we blood-related.” 

He looked just like a puppy that she had accidentally kicked, and she hated it. The more she tried to make it better, the worse he seemed to take it. She wiped the sauce from her hands. Dimitri was staring at his feet in silence, and she felt that if she didn’t say something now her heart might just crack.

“I’d be happy to be your - your penpal, though.”

“Penpal…?” he said, peering up at her from beneath the hair that had fallen over his eye line. Edelgard momentarily squeezed her eyes shut in regret when he repeated her words back to her. 

“I mean… I’d be happy to be your friend again.” She paused. “Or whatever it is that you want.”

That last part was supposed to be a come-on, but Dimitri didn’t seem to register it. Edelgard just sighed and went to her fridge to rearrange some condiments that did not need rearranging.

“I’m sorry, El. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

She couldn’t look at him. Dimitri was clearly very, very lonely, and hadn’t learned to deal with it the way Edelgard had. The thought made her throat feel tight. 

“It’s fine. I’m not uncomfortable. You’re…”

What _was_ he? Sweet? Kind? Adorable? Exactly the same boy she remembers giving her butterflies as a kid, but in the body of a very attractive man? 

“You’re a lovely person.” Edelgard was truly not good at this.

“I’m not so sure about that. I’ve done a lot of things that I’m not proud of.”

“Well, so have I. Everyone has. But I’ve enjoyed this weekend quite a bit.”

Things were quiet at dinner. Dimitri didn’t try to make small talk. He still looked wounded. Edelgard couldn’t allow it to go on any longer. As she ate, she tried to figure out her next move. 

She did not do one night stands. She hadn’t slept with anyone since she broke up with her last girlfriend, and even at that, it took her three months of dating to finally get in bed with her. But at this point, she had nothing to lose. She’d already upset him, and without a flimsy familial relationship connecting them, they didn’t really have anything. 

So she placed her dish in the sink and went to her bedroom, where she opened her drawers and pulled out a seldom worn silk nightdress. She drew a sharp breath and undid her bra, then slipped down her panties and kicked them aside. The erotic thrill of not wearing underwear around him wasn’t lost on her. She felt a surge of lust in her stomach that she hadn’t felt in a long time, but it was inhibited by the nerves that set in soon after. 

She examined herself in the mirror. The dress was too short, too low, clung too tightly to her body. She tugged at the hem to smoothen it out, but she knew as soon as she moved it would ride up again. Even in the dim light of her room, she could see silvery scars on her thighs and arms.

This was a futile endeavour. She couldn’t even be alone with herself in clothes like this, never mind with someone who she barely knew. She turned and took her nightgown from the hook on the back of her door. She wrapped it around herself, securing it tightly around her waist. It was beautiful, red silk with an eyelet lace trim at the sleeves and hem. It was a birthday gift from Hubert, and she knew it had been expensive. But it was a failsafe confidence boost for her, and the fact that it covered everything from her neck to her ankles was no small factor in that.

As soon as she was back in the room with him she ended up crossing her arms over her chest out of self-conscious habit. That didn’t stop Dimitri from looking her up and down before he realized what he was doing and buried his head in his phone.

Edelgard took a seat beside him. She felt stiff, like her limbs were made of clay. They ate in silence, both watching the black screen of her turned off television with unusual rapture. Dimitri cleared his throat. “Could I ask a favour of you?”

“What do you need?”

Dimitri shifted and pulled something out of his pocket. A small vial of clear liquid. “My eye has been very dry, but I struggle to administer these drops myself. I hate to ask this of you, but would you be able to help me?”

Ah. An eye infection. That explained the patch. She uncrossed her legs, and looked first to her lap and then to Dimitri. He looked conflicted, and that made Edelgard feel self-conscious. Thankfully he shifted closer to her and laid his head in her lap before she could begin to regret her decision.

The weight of his head on her lap made her nightdress move and come away under the waist tie, leaving her thighs exposed underneath him. Her muscles tensed when the sensation of his head on her bare skin registered. His hair was soft and long enough that it fanned out over her lap. Both of his eyes were closed, and his facial muscles were totally relaxed. If she didn’t know better she would think he was having a peaceful sleep.

She reached for the bottle and began to uncap it. “Both eyes?” she asked, wielding the dropper just a few inches from his face. He smiled, and bathed in the orange light of her tableside lamp, he looked golden. 

“There’s only one, I’m afraid. Just the one you see.”

“Oh.”

Clearly there was a lot more to Dimitri than he’d made known to her - and he had made quite a lot known to her. She wondered if he lost the eye in the car crash, but she didn’t want to ask. She didn’t want to remind him, nor did she want to be reminded herself. She pulled the crease upwards until the white of his eye were showing. 

“Don’t flinch,” she commanded.

“…I’ll try?”

And with that, she squeezed the first drop into his eye. He flinched, of course, and the movement made her aware of how soft his hair was against her bare legs. 

When he sat up his nose was running, which made him sniffle. He tilted his head back against the couch and blinked rapidly until his vision was clear. 

“That was...nice,” he said.

Edelgard scoffed. “Was it?”

“Well, I suppose - it might just be your company that I find nice.”

Edelgard shifted and readjusted her nightgown. Looking up, she caught Dimitri staring raptly at her thighs. She frowned and felt herself waver. She should have known that this was going to be a fruitless endeavour.

“You don’t have to stare,” she said, eyes narrowed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Edelgard said nothing, just pulled her nightgown tighter over her lap and avoided eye contact with Dimitri.

“It’s just… you’ve grown up to be very beautiful,” Dimitri said, and there wasn’t even a hint of anxiety in his tone. She never would have accused him of being smarmy before, but that is exactly how she would describe him right now.

“That’s not why you were looking and you know it.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he said.

“Are you really going to make me say it? You were looking at my scars.”

Dimitri drew breath, but Edelgard cut him off before he could speak. “I thought I was supposed to be your older sister, and now you’re telling me how _beautiful_ my legs are?”

Silence. She went too far, got too angry at him. She always, _always_ did this, found herself flying off the handle at small comments despite her best efforts to remain calm and collected. She didn’t want to be like this. She _knew_ she wasn’t an angry person, but there were so many bad memories that swam around in her head that she seemed to always be at risk of having one pop up and distort her emotions.

Dimitri sat very still, his eyes cast in a sidelong glance and his hand guarding his mouth. Then, slowly, he pulled himself upwards and turned to her with a straightened back.

“Perhaps I have misplaced my feelings towards you.”

Edelgard fiddled with the hem of her nightdress. Though she took conscious measures not to show it, she suddenly felt so hot that she was beginning to sweat. She had been confessed to a few times, but never had it kicked in her fight-or-flight system like this. How could she be this uncomfortable, when this was exactly what she had been hoping would happen? She didn’t know what to make of it. All she could do was try to gather her thoughts.

“Dimitri, you’re going to give me some kind of emotional whiplash.”

It was supposed to be a joke, but he didn’t laugh. “If this is unwelcome, please, tell me right away. I don’t want to do anything that might jeopardize having you in my life.”

“It’s not unwelcome,” she said, too fast. “But I should warn you ahead of time that I am terrible at this.”

“What exactly are you terrible at?” he asked, his voice soft and fond, and even though Edelgard felt like she might just pass out from the furnace churning in her stomach, it made her want to pull him closer and see if his skin was as warm as his demeanour.

“Relationships. Sex. All of it.”

“I very much doubt that, but if it’s any solace, so am I,” he said. “We can go slowly.”

Edelgard looked at him. “It’ll have to be very slow. Excruciatingly.”

“I’m patient.”

She glanced at the digital clock on her TV. It was almost ten pm. Then, she did something very brave. “Will you come to my bedroom?”

Dimitri stood up with so much haste that he almost sent the cutlery on the coffee table flying. So much for patience. 

She didn’t waste any time either, opting to lay on her back on the bed, her limbs stiff by her side. Dimitri joined her after a moment of hesitation.

“I want to try...cuddling you,” she said.

Dimitri nodded slowly, but the way he pressed his legs closer together when she said that wasn’t lost on her. She sighed.

“We’ll have to do it with all the lights out.”

“That’s - fine. Absolutely no problem,” Dimitri said. The fact he seemed just as nervous as she felt made her feel a little more at ease.

"Don’t touch me anywhere sexual unless I explicitly ask you,” she instructed, lying shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Of course.”

She switched the bedside light off. They lay like that for a moment, completely silent and still. Eventually, Edelgard turned on her side away from him. It was easier this way; she didn’t have to look him in the eye. “You can put your arms around me now.”

He slipped an arm under her neck and the other around her waist, his hand lying flat on her stomach. “How’s that?”

What could she tell him? That she felt like she was underwater, and he was her lifejacket? That the hot, panicked flush of anxiety had thawed out to a fluttery warmth that she could feel all over her body?

“It’s fine,” she said.

Dimitri hummed. She felt the vibration across her back. After a few moments, he spoke. “Can I rest my chin on your shoulder?”

“Alright.”

He had to shift down to even get level with her shoulder. At least that meant his crotch was no longer pressing against her rear, though she didn’t know whether to be happy or sad about that.

His efforts were in vain because she lasted all of thirty seconds in that position. “That hurts. You’re too pointy. Here-” she reached up behind her, fingers skimming across his cheek, his ear, his hair, to the back of his head. She guided him until his mouth was pressed to her shoulder instead.

His breath was warm. After a few moments, he pressed his lips against her shoulder. “Was that okay?” he whispered, pulling away from her as soon as he had kissed her.

“Yes...you can keep doing that.”

He kissed her chastely, and she ran her hand back up alongside his face to wrap her hands in his hair. The warmth of Dimitri’s body made falling asleep easier than it had been in years.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓༓☾∘⋅•

About seven months had passed since he’d first met Claude and Edelgard, and so much had changed. 

While things escalated with Edelgard fairly quickly after their weekend together, he and Claude had kept in touch as well. What he thought was a blessing ended up keeping him up night after night in shame, confusion and worry. 

Dimitri was the type of person who fell in love embarrassingly fast. He’d known, waking up in Edelgard’s bed on that first Sunday morning, that he was already in love with her. He’d known on his way back from Deirdriu that if he was afforded the chance to, he absolutely would fall in love with Claude. He’d tried many times to give up talking to one of them, but it would only last an hour or so. There was no conceivable way out of this predicament, and he had been miserable. 

Eventually, he’d managed to convince Edelgard to come to Fhirdiad for a weekend, where he promptly broke down and told her he had feelings for both her and Claude. 

He explained everything to her. How he must be an even worse person than he realized, to hurt both of them like this. How he never thought he would be the type to play around with his partners, but he could tell he was falling in love with both of them and he didn’t know what to do. He thought for sure that she was going to break up with him then and there.

Instead, she sent him home with directions to an LGBT+ outreach centre, a list of books with names like _Beyond Monogamy_ and _The More The Merrier - Why Traditional Relationships Are Due A Review_ , and strict instructions to visit the library there. The books made so many things make sense. The reason why he’d felt so trapped in his first serious relationship, which was also the reason he hadn’t embarked on another since it all fell apart. Why he seemed to be falling in love with two people at a breakneck speed, and couldn’t put it out of his mind no matter how hard he tried. 

He spent hours on the phone to both of them, and he took it up with his therapist too. Edelgard was happy, if not a little smug for catching his feelings before he did. Claude seemed rather enthusiastic and even a slightly relieved, but he didn’t specify why. His therapist talked him through all of his thoughts, of which there were many, and finally helped him to come to accept it. He was poly.

And now, he was sitting in a vacation rental near Garreg Mach, the very centre of Fodlan. This was where Edelgard and Claude were going to meet for the first time. Claude had arrived the night before and was now sitting at the kitchen table. 

Dimitri heard the clack of Edelgard’s heels on the pavement outside, and his heart leapt. He made his way to the door to greet her. She stepped in and gave him a smile, which quickly led to a firm hug and a kiss on the cheek. Her hair smelled like roses. Dimitri hooked his hand around her waist and kept her pressed against him until he was satisfied.

Then, she removed her shoes and padded into the kitchen with her overnight suitcase in tow behind her, the very image of poise and confidence.

“Hey,” said Claude, giving her a wave with his phone still in his other hand. A perfect balance between casual and politeness. 

“Hello,” said Edelgard, standing a few feet away from him in the centre of the room. Neither of them offered their name, nor did they shake hands. They knew each other by proxy already, but if Dimitri were in that position he’d opt to introduce himself anyway. 

Dimitri watched the two of them size each other up and was reminded of the nature shows that he watched before bedtime to put himself to sleep. Edelgard, with her head tilted towards Claude, side-eying him in an unsubtle display of distrust, was a bird of prey. A hawk, maybe, or an eagle. And Claude, with his sly smile and narrowed eyes, might have been taken for a snake, but a few nights ago he learned about the existence of a creature that is so adept and cunning that it could defeat even the most venomous cobra. Yes, Claude was a mongoose, and venom doesn't even phase him. 

He hadn’t seen a show about how mongoose fare against avian predators, though, but he wouldn’t count them out.

Edelgard pulled a bottle of white wine out of her suitcase and set it in the fridge. 

‘’Nice place, right?’’ Claude said to her. Edelgard only hummed dismissively in response and sat at the breakfast bar across the room from them. She had all of her defences up,and was in full-on ice-princess mode. He had warned Claude about it. Claude said it was fine, and that he liked a challenge.

It kind of felt like introducing a dog to a cat. Or, more accurately, a cat to a cat. Or a mongoose to an eagle.

‘’So, were you cruising Ancestry.com for a hook up too?’’ Claude asked, smirking. Oh no. Oh _no._

Edelgard set down her phone and stared at him for a moment.‘’Isn't it funny how I already regret knowing you, when we only met ten minutes ago?’’

Claude laughed, stood up, and walked to the fridge. Edelgard was still watching him like - well, like a hawk. 

‘’Dimitri sure wasn’t exaggerating. Do you think that wine would work over ice?’’

‘’Eugh… no! Didn’t _you_ bring something?’’

The two of them continued like that, Claude bantering, Edelgard taking it personally, as they dug through the fridge and cabinets. Somehow, after five very noisy minutes, they’d whipped up two mojitos. Two, because Dimitri doesn’t drink anymore, which they both knew without saying anything. 

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓༓☾∘⋅•

Edelgard was cute. In that icy, ‘don’t touch me’ way. Claude knew that already because of course, he’d asked for photos as soon as Dimitri told him about her. But she was much cuter in person because Claude could tease her and watch the way her nose wrinkled when he said something she didn’t like. 

It didn’t surprise him at all that she was a lawyer. She seemed practically born for it - stiff, serious, sharp. Dimitri hadn’t specified that she was a human rights lawyer in training, though. That was interesting. 

“And you’re a computer scientist, correct?” she asked as they walked. He noticed she had to take twice as many steps as Dimitri to cover the same amount of ground. 

“Yeah. something like that. The computers are more like a means to end, you know? What I do in my spare time isn’t so far removed from what you do - I just like to cut out the middleman. No offence.”

“Oh. So you’re a… hacktivist, or something.” 

Claude smiled and genuinely tried not to laugh. He didn’t mean to mock her, that word just sounded so funny when she used it, like a mother who was trying to keep up with her teenager’s new-fangled lingo.

“Yeah, you could call it that.” He flashed her a smile. 

She looked dazed for a moment, but then looked away. “That’s interesting.” 

She was warming up to him.

Dimitri was in between the two of them, and was silent but seemed content to take in the scenery. And right he was; the monastery grounds were famed not only for their historic relevance, but also their beauty.

The trees dappled the sunlight and formed a natural tunnel overhead. He thought of all the people who’d stood here before him, who’d walked this same path over the course of time. Kings, emperors, dukes, archbishops, and countless more whose stories never made it to the pages of the history books. Even the man he was named after in _both_ languages, the nineteenth Duke Riegan, secret king to Almyra, had spent enough time here to warrant his legendary bow being held on display here. Claude had been waiting to see it in person for years.

At first, Claude didn’t like that he fell for Dimitri. He didn’t understand why he felt the compulsion to keep replying to his texts when he could have just as easily ghosted him. He was so far away, after all; it’s not like it would ever come back to bite him. But Dimitri just wasn’t like the other people he’d been with. He was so gentle and kind that it was genuinely hard to imagine he’d ever hurt a fly.

Dimitri told him all about the flies he’d hurt, though. He had lived a truly difficult and sad life, and had found himself in a lot of trouble a few years back. And, by some miracle, one night Claude opened up to Dimitri about his own troubles too. That he felt lost everywhere he went. That the bullying he’d endured in his childhood made him scared to trust anyone now. How he was paranoid, how he had locks on every window and door in the house, and how he couldn’t sleep without checking each of them three times.

And Dimitri understood. Somehow, he made him _feel_ understood, and that was something that didn’t happen often. He was a sweetheart, and it terrified Claude. 

Him being poly came as a relief. Not because Claude was too - he might be, he hadn’t thought about it all that much - but because it meant Dimitri wouldn’t need to rely on him for all of his emotional needs, and Claude wouldn’t have to use up all of his spare time and energy on him. It was, in a word, perfect. And Claude was happy. Happy to have someone check in on him every day, to talk to as he fell asleep, even if it was often through a screen. 

The path widened as the monastery came into view. There it was; cold and imposing, and yet it somehow still seemed to be brimming with life. Tourists came and went from the grand wooden doors in a regular stream, while locals played with their dogs on the spacious lawns that surrounded it. It actually wasn’t hard to imagine how this place was once upon a time, buzzing with that kind of excitement you can only find on a campus.

Edelgard was scanning the grounds, scouting out a good place for their picnic later. Dimitri had been too, but then he was distracted by a golden retriever who’d bounded over to him. Once they had their bearings, they started their tour. 

Edelgard walked like a woman on a mission, straight through the entrance hall and out the other end. Dimitri stopped a few times to admire the carvings on the rafters but kept pace with her fairly well.

Claude knew exactly where Edelgard was heading to. It seemed like they were on the same wavelength. 

The walk along the bridge was beautiful, but what was waiting at the end of it was even more so. The spectacular, half-destroyed cathedral. The front of it still stood strong in its original form, but almost everything else was a reconstruction. It had been almost entirely destroyed in the war of 1185, and then a fire in 1264 took out what they had managed to restore. Deciding that it was beyond help, they decided to turn it into a museum instead.

The three of them stepped inside. Despite the fact it had since been repurposed, it still seemed to retain the stony and hushed atmosphere of a cathedral. Maybe that was simply because what was inside was so awe-inspiring. 

Here, behind bulletproof plexiglass, lay four of the most powerful relics in Fodlan’s history - Failnaught, Areadbhar, Aymr, and the Sword of the Creator. Claude had been waiting all his life to see them. 

In the very centre of the room was the Sword of the Creator, elevated onto a platform so that it was visible even from far away. People swarmed around it, waiting for their turn to get a closer look. It was the sword with a storied history, and one that won Fodlan’s most famous war, so of course it was the main attraction. Claude glanced at the display on his way past it. 

When he was a kid he thought the Sword of the Creator, with its extendable length and crazy Goddess powers, was the coolest thing _ever._ He even asked his mom why she didn’t name him Byleth instead of Khalid. She laughed and told him that she named him like that in hopes that he’d accomplish what Khalid never got to. She also told him it was a little less gross to wield a bow made out of the ribcage than the spine.

He didn’t understand her at all the time, but he did now. And he agreed on the grossness factor too. So when the time came to choose a Fódlan name, he chose Claude instead of Byleth. And he was glad that he did. 

Thankfully, there were fewer people standing by Failnaught. Claude read the little blurb while he waited for a family to finish their viewing session. 

_Born in Almyra in the Imperial year 1162. Son of the King Farhad II of Almyra, and Duchess Tiana Riegan. He was the only heir to both the Leicester and Almyran thrones ever recorded. Legitimated as Reigan heir in 1179. Attended Garreg Mach in the Imperial year 1180, where he was the leader of the Golden Deer house. He was a cunning tactician, a skilled archer, and said to be fond of poetry and feasts. According to his journal entries, his greatest wish was '_ to scale the walls between the lands, and open up Fódlan to all’ _. He went missing during the battle at Gronder Field in 1185 and is believed to have died in Almyra in 1188, never having ascended the throne._

It was… depressing. All of that hope, all of those ideals, all of that blood spilt, all for him to die before he ever got the chance to fulfil his dream. Claude knew everything about the guy already; he’d read every book on him that he could get his hands on, in both Fódlan and Almyra. Truth be told, he really admired him. There were some things he should have done differently, sure, but he genuinely seemed to want to better the world. It was inspiring.

The family had cleared by the time he stopped navel-gazing, and he moved up to see the bow. There it was, mounted on the wall, proud in all of its thorny, macabre glory. To think that _the_ Claude had once held it made him wish he could reach out and touch it too. 

Even though he considered the 1185 war to be the source of the most pointless bloodshed in all of Fódlan’s history, it was hard not to be taken in by the tragedy of it all. Of three idealists, hurt by their world, who came so close but fell so far. It was the fact that none of them achieved it that meant they held people’s attention for so long. Even though he considered the 1185 war to be the source of the most pointless bloodshed in all of Fódlan’s history, it was hard not to be taken in by the tragedy of it all. 

Not so far away from Failnaught was Aymr, and Edelgard was standing in line to see it. Claude decided he’d spent long enough here; there was a little Almyran kid waiting to see it behind him, and he didn’t want to hog it. He snapped a quick picture to send to his mom, then headed over to where Edelgard was. 

She was so rapt that she didn’t even hear him approach.

“You know she was only like 5’2? I have no idea how she held that thing,” he said.

Edelgard almost jumped out of her skin when he spoke. She looked at him bewildered, and he noticed that her eyes were a little misty. She must have been tearing up just looking at it.

Now he felt really bad.

“Oh… it’s you. Yes, I’m aware of that. And I’m sure her crest helped a lot in that regard.”

Claude smiled. She knew her stuff, then. They were really pretty similar in their interests - maybe Dimitri had a type. At any rate, he knew he was going to get along with this girl eventually.

“Are you a big fan of hers?”

“No, I’m not a ‘ _big fan’,”_ she said, air quotes and all. “I’m interested, that’s all. I think her goals were admirable. She just didn’t go the right way about them.” She paused. “I think it’s all very sad, really.”

Edelgard glanced at the axe one last time, with a wistful look in her eye. “Let’s go find Dimitri,” she said.

They found him in the portrait gallery, where a woman appeared to be badgering him into a corner. Edelgard frowned and hurried over. 

“No, seriously! He looks just like him! Right, Daniel? He does, doesn’t he?” 

Claude looked over Dimitri’s head. There hung a portrait of Prince Dimitri. Well, they were both blond and blue-eyed, but that was hardly unusual in Faerghus. The prince had his hair cut short, looked to be of a slimmer build, and still had both of his eyes intact. They didn’t really look similar at all. 

“I- I’m flattered that you think so… but I really need to find my girlfr- oh, there you are!” Dimitri shot them both a look that screamed ‘ _help me’_. Edelgard charged in and dragged Dimitri out from in front of the woman’s camera by the wrist, without offering any apology. 

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓༓☾∘⋅•

The weather was absolutely perfect for a picnic. Dimitri hadn’t even attempted to make his own food for it, though. He bought it all pre-made at a fancy, upscale supermarket when he first arrived at the rental. It was expensive, but Edelgard and Claude seemed happy about it, and that made it worth all the money in the world.

Claude and Edelgard seemed to be getting along a lot better. He knew they both liked history, so he figured that a trip to Garreg Mach would be the best way to get them talking to each other. The two of them were chatting about the exhibition they'd seen in between bites of food.

“Isn’t it a strange coincidence? Our names, I mean,” Edelgard said, turning towards Dimitri to better include him in the conversation.

“It's quite a coincidence, alright. But they’re also popular names. There were like three Dimitris in my high school,” said Claude.

Dimitri hummed. That was true. Dimitri, Edelgard and Claude were all exceedingly popular names in Fódlan. He’d encountered his fair share of Claudes and Edelgards in his time too. To name your daughter Edelgard meant you hoped she would grow up strong and righteous; to name your son Dimitri meant you hoped he would grow up just and kind. To name him Claude meant that you hoped he would be clever and open-minded. All of the things that they were known to be before it was lost to bloodshed and pain. 

“I suppose. It would be nice if there was something more to it, though," Dimitri said.

“Hey, you never know. We could be their descendants, you know? Ancestry.com doesn’t let you go back that far,” Claude said, and he gave Dimitri a playful nudge in the ribs. Dimitri laughed. He was never going to live this one down.

“Actually, now that you say it, they offer DNA kits now. You give them a saliva sample, and they can tell you your genetic history.”

“No. Absolutely not. They will sell your DNA,” Edelgard said.

“I’m with Edie on this one. We love you and all, but I don’t know that we’d be ready to handle a government clone of you turning up on our doorstep.” 

Dimitri laughed and craned his neck back to look at the sky. The sun was warm on his face. The wind was whistling through the trees. Somewhere a dog was barking. This was the happiest he’d been in years.

Maybe some things are better left unknown. 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for FE3H polyship week day 5, with the prompt of 'family'. Thank you very much for running this event!
> 
> Thank you so much to my bff and beta reader Tia who put this dumb idea in my head and then encouraged me to spend all this time writing it. Also shout out to Noel Miller who is weirdly the originator of this 'using ancestry.com to date' joke lol. And if you made it all this way, thank you soooo much for reading!!


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